Shufflin'
by KristieConspiracy
Summary: Part 2: "I love you, you know that?" Fred/Hermione. Part 1: "He did if I was to have my mind." Draco/Hermione. The iPod shuffle challenge, AU-heavy.
1. 1: Dramione

**The iPod Shuffle Challenge**

**1) **Pick a character/pairing/fandom you like.

**2)** Put your iPod on shuffle.

**3) **Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start as the song begins, and stop when it finishes. No lingering afterwards.

**4)** Do ten, then post.

**A./N: **I_ cheated. For #6 and 9, I replayed the songs to have time to finish._

**Pairing: **Draco/Hermione

**Fandom: **Harry Potter.

* * *

**1\. Perfect for Me - Show Me the Skyline**

Years ago, Draco had met Hermione Granger in Diagon Alley. The girl had the bushiest hair of anyone he'd ever seen, she tripped over her own feet and she was in a dreadful temper by the time their conversation had ended. He had, after all, been forced to act like she was beneath him, as his mother peered over her shoulder at him.

By the time they met on the Hogwarts Express, he'd dismissed his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle vanished in pursuit of food. She had tucked her feet beneath her on her seat, already in her Hogwarts robes. He sat with her.

"I suppose you're here to insult me some more?"

"No. I want to know what you think of it," he said, gesturing towards her book.

She smiled.

In that moment, she was perfect, and he decided exactly what he wanted.

**2\. Ugly Heart - G.R.L.**

Locked up by her auror ex-boyfriend, Hermione sighed. "Just my damn luck," she snarled, glaring at him. "You would come find me, wouldn't you. Not enough to lock me up, you have to come mock me."

"Hermione, you're being ridiculous," he simpered, "and you're making a scene."

"Can it, Draco, I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Leaving the most attractive person you have, and will ever, meet?"

"It just blows your mind, doesn't it, that I'm not in love with you anymore?"

He stared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She checked it off on her fingers, examining her nails. "Okay, so you're quite nice to look at. You're pretty. You've got that little beauty mark on your neck, like a label, _hey, look at me, I'm damn fine_. Your face is a gorgeous work of art, you could easily be a model."

"So why leave me?"

"It's just such a pity, Draco, that you're beautiful - but inside, you're bloody hideous."

**3\. Sacrimony (Angel of Afterlife) - Kamelot**

"What do you want me to say? What do they know that I don't?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Malfoy, I hate not knowing. You have to tell me what they see that I don't. You can't _not_ tell me, not after you just walked in and kissed me like I'm your girlfriend or something." She laughed.

His heart sank back towards the icy pit she'd pulled it out of all those years ago. "Yeah," he muttered, "completely ridiculous."

"Malfoy? What's that tone?"

"They wiped your memory, Herm - Granger. It's gone. You can't get it back."

"Don't be stupid. Just go get Harry, and Ron, they'll be able to fix it."

He stared at her with absolute pity. "You've forgotten everything."

**4\. Far From Home - Five Finger Death Punch**

Hermione sat alone in the library, lost once more in the carnival of souls. Around her, students milled and asked and disrespected each other. She could remember before, when she'd had a future beyond being a bloody librarian, loathed and talked about by every single child. But reality had been twisted, her secrets re-shaped, her stories re-written. Her past was a tapestry of faces she'd never see again, since beyond the students, she could never legally glance upon another pureblood again. The carved insult in her skin, the symbol burned into her wrist, and the magical chain around her ankle were just reminders of her crime.

Being born, as best she could tell. Loving someone above her station.

It was almost like the entire system had been reshaped specifically to take away her shot at happiness after the loss of the war.

That was why, when the huge oak doors creaked open, she didn't look up. She didn't flinch when she felt the soft tingle of a spell cast over her. She didn't dare glance up, speaking softly, "Magic is not permitted in the library. Not by students."

"Good thing I'm not a student, then."

She cracked her neck brutally, she looked up so fast, colour draining from her face. "Draco? This is a trick. They're trying to drag me down again."

He smiled sadly, shook his head. "I promised I'd return for you."

**5\. Love in the 21st Century - Neon Trees**

"This entire system is flawed, it's twisted. I'm not impressed, Draco, at all. You don't ever mean a word you say to me, it means nothing to you at all, does it? But of course I still want to see you again. I can't _not_ see you. You're like a drug, and the way things have evolved, there's no way I can be rid of you."

Her boyfriend, all shades of white and black, lifted his beer to his lips and rolled his eyes, not answering.

"Honestly, I don't understand you at all. I'd need to dissect your brain to glean _any_ information about you at all, wouldn't I? You're nonsense."

"Hermione, love," he set his glass down, standing up and taking her hands in his. "We're in love. You can question everything you like, but there's never going to be a logic to it. You can criticise it, me, as much as you want, I'm not going to stop you. I'm in love with that part of you as well, Merlin forbid. This is the twenty-first century, after all."

"And?" She stared at him, brown eyes fixed hopefully and beseechingly on molten silver.

"It's not going to change anything."

**6\. Wake Me Up - Avicii**

Hermione had nightmares about groping aimlessly through the dark, directed by the sounds of a heartbeat in the distant. Voices twisted and warped in the shadows, colouring the dream and turning it into Hell. "You'll never understand." "You're just dreaming." "You're just too young." "You're not _anybody_." "Freak." "Monster." "Mudblood."

Then, always, "Wise up, Hermione, or you'll miss out on reality."

Draco's dreams were the opposite, brightness and light and colours more vivid than anything he'd ever really seen. He was exactly where he'd always felt at home, in the garden at the Manor with the peacocks. He had his theories, his beliefs: mudbloods are impure, purebloods are superior, he was better, always, always better. Then acid voices spat at him, "You'll never have any chances." "You're family is a waste of space." "You're wasting your life."

Then, again and again, "Open your eyes, Draco. You're missing the point."

Things eventually changed, of course, as all things must. Their dreams tripped into each other: light seeped into the muggleborns, leeched from the purebloods'. The whispers became more similar, less distinct, like both were caught up in an exploration, a journey towards _something_.

"You can't carry the weight of the world." "You need to share the burden." "Come on, you need to plan for change." "You won't be young forever, like it or not." "You're equal, not better, not worse." "You need to get wiser. You need to get older. You need to find yourself."

Finally, needfully, they bumped into each other with work. Both were in the wrong place at what they saw as the wrong time, books cascading to the floor in a hectic heap. "I must be lost. Sorry, Malfoy."

"I didn't notice I got turned around. My bad, Granger."

They both picked up the books closest to them, picking up books that must belong to the other. "Is this a book on gardening?"

"Yes, I want to learn how to maintain a sanctuary. You know, a peaceful abode." _Odd question to ask. Why the surprise? _"...This is a book on magical genealogies."

He flushed. "I'm looking into the real origins of magical power. Obviously it's not just upbringing and parentage..."

They stared at each other over their stacks of books, both coming to a conclusion and speaking in perfect unison.. "Join me for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

**7\. Illuminati - Anonymous**

"Eurgh, what a waste of effort."

"Malfoy?"

"Voting. Come on, we don't _really_ have any power. As educated people, we take a little critical thinking. No way would we know everything."

"Oh."

"Don't get offended, Granger. I'm just saying, maybe you don't see it, but I'm telling you, whatever they're telling us is a lie. They make promises they can't keep, demand things that would require incredible magic."

"But there _are_ powerful wizards and witches out there, people completely capable of - what are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable. Stroke my hair. That's better. Go on."

"I was _reading_, thanks, Draco."

"You were justifying. _Go. On._"

"Right. People completely capable of these extremes."

"Life from death?"

"Technically, that's what life is, a constant exchange. It's just a new world order, Malfoy."

"Liar. You don't believe that at all. They make us sick so they can control us properly. Think about it. They control the schools, the classes, the health care that St Mungos will provide. They tax us because they need money. Power's in the money, Granger, let that be known."

"Then why are you running for a higher position in the Ministry, if you're so cynical?"

"I've got you to keep me real."

"Heh. That you do."

**8\. Takedown - Blue Stahli**

Spells were flying everywhere, dreadful, evil beams clashing with better, safer, minor variants. It was obvious who was on which side.

Except for _him_. He seemed kind of suicidal, taking her on directly. Hermione was not amused. "Lower your weapon, Malfoy."

"Absolutely not," he sneered. "I want to be the one who takes you down. I want to be the one who breaks your dignity and your record. I think you'd make a beautiful suicide, Granger, and I intend to see it through."

"What're you gonna say when I give back everything and then some, using as much humane tactics as possible?"

"I lack those constraints." His sneer became a derogatory grin. "Die, Granger," he said, and the dance began.

It felt like hours, but eventually the two were forced to stop fighting, gasping for breath. First he, then her, removed their helmets, and the war scene flicked and fragmented, the cold white reality of the virtual immersion chamber becoming apparent. "You cheated!"

"And how would I do that? You programmed it, not me!"

"Oh, shut up, Draco. Both of us know you're better at this than you pretend to be. You just keep _letting_ me win. You think I can't tell? Best three out of five?"

He coloured. "Make it four out of seven and you've got yourself a deal."

"You're insane. But _fine_, if that's what you want..."

She grinned. "Someone wants to get lucky tonight."

**9\. Don't You Worry Child - Swedish House Mafia**

"I was a child once, you know."

"Of course, Mister Malfoy."

"I was practically royalty. My parents loved me. I was perfect."

"Most of us have that delusion, Mister Malfoy."

"My dad said to me once, 'Don't you worry, there's a plan for you.' He swore it, would have made a blood oath if mother hadn't intervened."

"A blood oath with a child is a little inappropriate."

"Then I started at Hogwarts. There was a girl, there, and she wasn't like anything I'd ever seen before. She was so different, not perfect, but at the same time, _so_ perfect. Together, we could've ruled the world. She had the brains, I had the power."

"What happened to her?"

"Her? She died. Inside. She got into fights with her friends, she changed completely. She was nothing but her studies. She was as good as dead."

"I imagine that was quite traumatic for you. But she was not dead at that point, not really."

"When a person receives the Dementors' Kiss, doctor, don't you call them dead?"

"Usually, I call them soulless."

"Then she was that. It doesn't matter. My father spoke to me again when I went back home for break, and I said it was terrible, that I was miserable and hated being powerless. Then he promised me again, 'there's a plan for you'."

"And?"

"Eventually I realised my stupidity. It was obvious, in retrospect. She was - what's the word - drugged. He used a muggle drug to change her. Had it slipped into her drink every morning. I only noticed because I sat with her once, and she was quite calm and happy, but then she took a sip, her eyes glazed over, and she wasn't all there anymore. It was horrible."

"Again, Mister Malfoy, such delusions are not uncommon."

"It wasn't a delusion. I approached my father and asked him. Guess what he said."

"'There's a plan for you'."

"Exactly. I couldn't let him do that. Not if it meant hurting her."

"He could have been lying. It could be coincidence that he chose those words. He didn't have to die."

The third person spoke up at last, her brown eyes fixing on the psychiatrist, her fingers intertwined with her lovers pale ones. "He did if I was to have my mind."

**10\. Mirrors - Justin Timberlake**

In Grimauld Place, there is a room in which the walls are made of mirrors.

It's an optical illusion. The floor is black carpet, but the rest of the room is mirrored surfaces, even the back of the door.

Hermione found this room by mistake, and it seemed to relax her. She would curl up, pressing her damaged arm against the cool glass, and would trace her fingers over her own reflection. It wasn't that she particularly liked what she saw. In fact, she hated it. What it was, was a memory. She was staring at her reflection, trying to find what it was that he had seen when he promised he'd be back with the others. She closed her eyes.

Of course Ron had botched the mission. He'd almost gotten them all caught, while a miserably impatient Hermione had curled up at headquarters with a book. Harry had explained it after, between gasps of pain as Ginny furiously kneaded her hands into his pain-filled muscles.

Ron got Draco caught in a pique of rage. The Death Eaters wanted him so badly, their traitor. Of course, when he offered himself to them to distract them from the pursuit of the others, they'd been so easily distracted. Harry had said they'd heard screams.

He was terrified of the Cruciatus curse, Hermione knew that. How miserable, that he succumb to that because of Rons' stupid mistake.

He was just a stupid mistake.

When the door opened, Hermione cast a blind spell over her shoulder. "I won't forgive you! Ronald Billius Weasley, you leave me the hell alone or I will hex you so many ways sideways - how dare you take - take _him_ from me - you had no right -"

"Ow. They specifically said not to do acrobatics like this," a familiar voice groaned. Her eyes flew open and her gaze shot to his, his molten silver eyes pressing on her back. She lit up instantly, shocked and thrilled. The door behind him was wide open, but neither cared as they reached for each other, losing each other in the passion of their reunion.

"I don't want to lose you again," she gasped, she clung to him. "Please don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere. Hermione, I love you, and you make me better. I am a reflection of your best intentions...once I figured that much out, it was easy to get out."

"Promise?"

"Merlin, you are the love of my life."

Her heart caught in her throat, and she kissed him deeply. "And you're mine."

* * *

**A/N:** 1-Draco is secretly very kind to Hermione.

2-Draco is an auror, Hermione a criminal, and they're no longer together.

3-Draco and Hermione dated, but Hermione lost her memories of this. Implied death of Harry &amp; Ron.

4-Voldemort wins, Hermione is stuck in the Hogwarts library with limited contact with other of-age magical people, and Hermione and Draco dated.

5-Hermione and Draco are both muggles, or at least living as.

6-Hermione and Draco both work for the Ministry.

7-Hermione and Draco are together, Draco's running for a position in the Ministry, and he doesn't believe in democracy.

8-Magic is a game, Hermione and Draco work for a game design company.

9-Draco killed his father to save Hermione.

10-The war stretched on longer, Draco joined the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione loved him.


	2. 2: Fremione

**Pairing: **Fred/Hermione

* * *

**1\. Something I Need - OneRepublic**

He jerked awake, the blankets falling away from his sweat-soaked form. It wasn't the first time, either, but he looked around manically nonetheless. Still in the crisp white hospital room. Still not alone; she was sitting in the chair she'd occupied every time he'd awoken to see her there.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he settled back down onto his pillow, pressing his unmarked cheek against the soft fabric. He wondered absently how bad it was, because the one time he'd woken to find _her_ awake, she hadn't looked at him. He couldn't possibly _not_ be scarred, not after half of Hogwarts had crashed down on top of him. His still-broken arm could attest to that.

He was watching her closely, praying, _hoping_, that she might wake and be caught off guard. He wanted to see her eyes. He needed to know for certain that everyone was alright. He thought he'd been told already, but the morphine had addled his mind. "Hermi..." He grimaced. "Mione."

She stiffened in her sleep, and her eyes fluttered open as her body relaxed too slowly to be called _natural_. "You're awake."

He didn't see how she'd managed to become so wide awake, so fast. "Guess so. How is everyone?"

"Alright." She paused. "Not alright. Your mum's losing her mind with worry. Ron's angry at me for not kissing him, as far as I can tell. Percy's been more annoying than everyone remembers. Charlie showed up. And -"

"Harry?"

"Harry's fine. You wouldn't be in St. Mungo's if he wasn't. We'd probably be dead or worse."

That wasn't ominous at all. "Why are you here?"

"Because you are," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And if anything happens to you, I want to know first. So they can't...so you don't have to wait long."

He sighed, sitting up. The bed protested quietly, better suited to not moving, and he patted the mattress beside him. "Hermione, it would be my privilege to live with you at my side."

"Yes," she said, perching beside him. "It would."

**2\. Last Night on Earth - Delta Goodrem.**

Hermione was stiff all over, her body aching. _That's what you get for being on the run so long_, she thought to herself. It wouldn't matter for long. Tomorrow - midnight - was the final battle, the wrap-up. Do or die. If they lost this, they lost the war.

She grimaced at the sky, staring at her from the window. She was trying not to think of _him_, but it was so hard. The radio at her side was silent for the first time in a long while; there was no need for a report now. Everyone knew that it was time to show their colours. Glumly, she drew a wobbly smile on the glass where her breath fogged the window. _What if I never see him again? What if one of us dies?_

It didn't cheer her up.

She had pictures, of course, of him and of her, together, smiling, laughing, and even, because of Colin's timing, of her yelling at him. Fred's smile never once wavered, not in any of the photos, not while he tried half-heartedly to talk her down or to turn her back on him and not watch. Just once she wished divination could be a genuine profession, so she might be able to see how this would all end.

"I think I'm in love with you," she murmured into the silence. A second later, she felt the ghost of fingers on her neck, until a solid grip was taken to her shoulder.

"Are you really?"

She turned bright red. "Fred, what're you -?"

"Everyone's distracted. Come for a walk with me? I don't think any of us should be alone right now."

She leaned her head back to look up at his kind blue eyes, rather like his fathers - the dark ring around the outside of his pupil was one of the few things he and George didn't share. _It's not enough. It's never enough_.

As he took her hand, though, she sighed anyway. It would do, for the moment.

**3\. Holding On - Simple Plan**

The lit brazier flickered from where it had been lodged between two bricks, trying to keep it from falling. Staring at it, arms around his knees, Fred couldn't quite remember what had possessed him to rip it from the wall at Hogwarts, or how he'd done so at all - he'd always been better at hitting than pulling. Beaters' strength, Wood had called it.

The cobbled streets were dark and dim, clouds blocking out the light of the moon he thought must be full, judging by the familiar roar of werewolves in the distance. North London would be getting torn apart by the monsters tonight, anyone who broached the curfew triggering it. On the edge of a step, he was mere centimetres from setting off every alarm in the street. "Don't move," he muttered to himself, unfolding the letter in his hand. She shouldn't be far away now. Then again, he'd said so every day for the past few weeks, and it was getting harder and harder to convince himself.

But memories danced through his mind at night, and the familiar handwriting of the note gave him hope. He had to find her, and he knew he'd be the one. She was just a little out of reach, and she had to be - Death Eaters would pay a handsome sum for 'Potter's mudblood', currying the Dark Lord's favour.

A light flickered in the distance, the open flame of someone he couldn't see. He imagined for a moment that it was Hermione, waiting for him where he couldn't quite see, as enigmatic as ever. "I'm coming, love," he murmured to the night. He meant it, too. How could he not?

**4\. I Do Not Hook Up - Kelly Clarkson**

Hermione found him completely wasted in the Leaky Cauldron, and of course she sighed in disappointment. She'd thought he might actually stay clean this time, but _of course_ he had to be difficult. He was having a lot of trouble dealing with the post-war world. "Put the bottle down. I do wish you'd go back to work."

"No way," he slurred. It took a good twenty minutes to get him back to his store, but it was worth it. She dumped his now-sleeping form on his bed and dusted off her hands.

"Stay," he groaned, reaching for the hem of her skirt. She jumped out of reach quickly. _Not asleep, then_.

"Goodnight, Fred."

"_Stay_."

"No. I won't stay with you while you're drunk."

"Please, Her...Hem," he hiccoughed, "Mione. I'll be good."

She grimaced at him. "Absolutely not, Fred Weasley, you get some sleep."

"I don't wanna be alone."

"You won't remember that in the morning."

"Please?"

_As if that's going to - oh_. He was looking at her now, and she was instantly disgusted with herself. She hadn't noticed that he was crying. "Oh, Fred, stop that."

"Won't you stay?"

"I - I suppose I can stay for a while."

He moved instantly, making room for her. She sat beside him, but he pulled her down quickly. She grimaced as he nuzzled her neck, his breath reeking horridly; her whole body thrummed with the knowledge that she hadn't been this close to anyone since before her and Ron had broken up. She jerked away from him, cutting off his nuzzling. "I'm not one of your floozy's, Fred. I won't do that for you."

"We'll go slow then," he whispered, his voice husky. She was saved from having to answer when he fell asleep. _Not likely until you quit drinking._

**5\. Beautiful - Eminem**

They all had their scars, and the war hadn't really even started in earnest. Not that it needed to. No, Fred Weasley knew that the usurping of the Ministry basically meant they had lost. It was a miracle that they'd been able to escape the wedding in the first place. But Hermione and the others had gotten away, thanks to her perfectionist planning - the same planning he'd teased her for over the past few years. He was regretting that, flexing his hand now as he glanced out form Shell Cottage's window. He missed her terribly. He wondered if she missed him, too.

Worse than that, they couldn't reopen the shop. He felt like he'd been stripped of his livelihood, then of his mind. It was taking a great deal of energy for him to drag himself out to face the world, now that there was no fun to be had. It made the entire thing seem dim and dull.

George kept shooting him curious glances, mostly concerned ones. Fred refused to meet his eye; he'd known about him and Hermione, of course he had. They wouldn't keep _that_ a secret, especially not from his twin. Everyone knew about them now.

He could feel her lips on his in the silence, kisses stolen in the library before he and George had left Hogwarts the year before last. Fred didn't cry, no, but he wouldn't wish this pain on anyone. He hoped she wasn't in too much danger, that she was at least a little safe. He hoped she wasn't forgetting again, about her beauty, her own enchantment. She'd been devastated when Ron had chosen Lavender, and Fred had held his tongue. She was over him, he knew that, the crush on his brother petered out in her third year, and his fifth. That was about when Fred had started to _really_ notice her, actually.

But sixth year had done something to Hermione's mind. She'd become more self-conscious, caring more about her appearance than she ever had before. He still didn't know what Ron had said.

He sighed, leaning back against the wall. He wondered if she'd ever write again - then he shook his head, feeling her lips ghosting across his cheek, his throat, his arm, the scar on his left hand from Umbridge's perpetual abuse. _Beautiful_. Then he imagined returning the favour, running his lips over scars from injuries sustained in the muggle world - that one on her right arm, from a broken bone. On her forehead, where she'd hit a table after a fall. The thin lines on her own left hand.

"Come back to me, Hermione," he murmured, mostly for something to say to the memory. He knew she'd be safe in the end, because her death would mean Harry Potter's defeat. If only he could guarantee his own life.

**6\. Where Did the Party Go? - Fall Out Boy**

Fred Weasley, locally famous comedian. One part of a double act. Comedic genius. And, of course, a smoker.

He tapped a smoke out off the packet, smiling at some broad whose shirt was open so wide, the cleavage was more visible than the fabric. _Katie_, he remembered. Him and George had tag-teamed her a while back, and clearly she expected a repeat performance. "Not likely," he muttered, looking down at the cigarette packet. One of those before-and-after shots showed a smiling woman with warm brown eyes and bushy dark hair, and the same woman in a half-dead state, a tube in her throat. He grimaced in distaste, pocketing the packet before he exited the dodgy pub, knocking himself and someone else to the pavement.

"What the -"

"Oh, _honestly_," said a distinctly feminine voice. He looked up to find her already upright, offering him her hand. He took it - _screw tradition_ \- and she helped him to his feet, leaving him bright red and face-to-face with the eyes from the cigarette packet.

"Watch where you're going in the future."

"Don't you know who I am?"

She rolled her eyes. "No."

"Let me buy you a drink to make up for it."

"Oh, fine, if you'll leave me alone."

That was years ago. The girl with the eyes from the cigarette packet was long gone, lost to the passage of time. Fred, obstinate Fred, had forgotten to ask her name and phone number, and she'd disappeared the next morning.

He turned the cigarette packet in his hand, everything inside unsmoked, frowning. He'd missed his chance, and now she was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

"You're that comic fellow, aren't you?"

"That's my brother, not me," he lied smoothly, not in the mood to talk.

"No, I'm sure it's you. No one else has the same...build."

_Oh, it's one of them_, he realised, looking up with the intention of telling the woman to go away. He never said what he intended, instead gaping at her in surprise. "How -?"

"Oh, you honestly thought I didn't recognise you at the time? Not everyone's as memorabale as you, Fred Weasley."

**7\. Wild Heart - Daughtry**

Hermione knew exactly what she wanted. She always had. She wanted to get the best grades, she wanted the teachers to like her, and when she was done, she wanted the best job, the one that would change the world.

Five years after Hogwarts, she had it. She had the friends and the reputation, and the bill to change house-elf rights forever was just about cleared. She had the relationship she'd wanted growing up, the pureblood Weasley on her arm.

_He's not the right one._

"Excuse me," she murmured, pulling herself free of Ron's grip.

"She used to have so much passion," someone by the door was saying. She didn't look at her as she passed; she already knew it would be some clueless Ministry worker who knew nothing about her.

She ventured outside, where she knew no one would go. It was too cold, too lonely. Perfect for what she needed, not that Ron was _bad_ company per se. It was just that he wasn't perfect. "I wanted you, not Ron," she whispered to the night. "Ever since the Yule Ball."

Harry and Ron had left early, leaving Hermione to weep alone on the staircase after Ron's accusations. It hadn't been Viktor, no - it had been one of the Weasley twins. Fred, to be precise. "Ron's an idiot," he had said simply, and pulled her to her feet. "Come dance with me?"

That was the start of their sort-of dating, the start of her helping with the idea of a joke shop. They could pull it off, she knew. "Wild heart," he'd called her, teasing. She smiled at the memory, feeling the tears on her cheeks and praising herself for not losing it.

But the memories of a summers spent barefoot at the Burrow bit into her further, and she smiled sadly. She'd described highways and airplanes and then he'd chucked her in the pond because she'd said it was too hot. The next summer, the one with the wedding, he'd held her at every chance, and she'd held him. "Don't let go 'til we die," he'd said. Neither of them took it as a joke, but she'd laughed anyway, and soon enough they were both cackling together.

"Never lose your wild heart," he had told her.

She should have told him never to die.

**8\. Am I Not Pretty Enough? - Kasey Chambers**

Sixth year and Hogwarts was tearing her apart. Or rather, Ron was. Ron and Lavender. Ron ignoring Hermione. Again.

She had wondered away from Harry in the rain, ended up outside Zonko's joke shop. Refusing to bother with the childish pranks within - even if they _were_ magic - she shoved past someone she didn't bother to look at and headed for the Shrieking Shack, silent in Lupin's absence.

By the time he caught up to her properly - _Merlin, _c_an she go fast_ \- she was crying, clutching her sides and hunching over as though she was dying. "Aren't I pretty enough for him? Is it because I went to the Yule Ball with Viktor that one time? I'm trying as hard as I can. Why won't he see me?"

Fred sighed and sat beside her, pulling her into a decent hug, something she hadn't had enough of, at least in his opinion. He'd just been there scoping out Zonko's - expanding Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was in the cards, as it turned out - and she'd almost bowled him over. And he knew exactly what disgusting thing had upset her. He'd have to be blind to miss _that_ disgusting display.

"He's an idiot," he whispered, pressing her face against his chest. "He can't see what's right in front of him."

"H-Harry says this is what seeing Ginny with Dean feels like."

"He probably knows it, too." He ignored the sinking feeling in his gut, almost sighing. _Funny how they seem so different, but they have so much they have in common_.

_Funny how they both break hearts._

**9\. Alive - Adelitas Way**

Fred leaned closer to Hermione, if that were possible. She was already laying with her head on his lap, letting him play with her unruly curls. Her eyes were dancing as she tried to pretend she wasn't laughing at Ron, playing with her godson, James. Harry's son was adorable.

Fred smiled at Hermione, though, not the baby. She was the one who'd taught him what it was to feel love, to care, and to never want to let go. Granted, she'd done so by leaving him half-certain she was dead, but that wasn't her choice, not really. The Horcrux hunt had demanded it, at least at the time.

He still felt more alive with her than he did with anyone else, _including_ George. He could feel the little box and its' contents, almost like they wanted to jump out and ask her themselves. _Patience_. He moved his hand to fetch them from the pocket, but not before kissing her forehead tenderly. "I love you, you know that?"

She grinned up at him, turning her head to meet his gaze. "More than anything."

**10\. Sick Hearts - The Used**

He didn't expect _this_ reaction. He certainly hadn't thought it possible. But here he was, glaring at Viktor bloody Krum, fury tempting him to walk right up to him and shove him headfirst into the punch bowl - and he wasn't even the one who'd hurt her. He was just the one who hadn't seen.

Yes, Fred Weasley was watching Hermione's night fall into ruin, planning the doom of just about everyone who wronged her. It wasn't that he loved her - at least, he shut his eyes and told himself that - or was in love with her, which of course are totally different things. It was just that she was his friend, and she didn't deserve this suffering.

When he said this to George, his twin rolled his eyes. "Wrong."

"Am not!"

"You're such a mess, Forge. Go talk to her."

"Sorry?"

His twin shoved him. "You heard me. Go talk to Hermione. Fix her night!"

"I don't think I -"

"Quit wasting time! Excuse us, ladies," he said to Angelina and Alicia, shoving Fred towards Hermione. He tripped and just about landed on her, toppling gracelessly onto the step beside her.

"H-hi," she hiccoughed.

"Hi." God, he was sick. What kind of masochistic idiot threw themselves at a witch like Hermione, especially when she dated someone else? _Do I _want_ to die with a broken heart?_

Then Hermione moved, and she snuggled up to him, sobbing quietly into his shirt. He let her do so. After all, he was in no position to argue. Not with Hermione needing him so badly.

* * *

**A/N: **1-Fred lives post-war AU.

2-Slightly different take on _Deathly Hallows_; no Ron/Hermione kiss.

3-Voldemort wins AU.

4-Fred lives post-war AU.

5-Alternate canon, Hermione and Fred started dating fifth year.

6-Muggle AU, Fred's a comedian, Hermione apparently modelled for a cigarette ad for money.

7-Technically canon compliant, sixth year.

8-Extra scene for _Half-Blood Prince._

9-Fred lives post-war AU.

10-Extra scene for _Goblet of Fire._


End file.
